JAX (The Beckett Boys, Book Two) (9 page)

* * *

R
ock Bridge isn’t just
the name of the town—it’s also the landmark for which the town was named. It’s an arc of rock carved out by the passage of water that forms a bridge over a river. Dad used to take us fishing here when we were young. It’s a scenic place to visit.

And better yet, it’s usually pretty deserted. At least where we’re going, a small clearing in the woods near the bridge with a fantastic view and soft grass, perfect for a blanket picnic. Yeah, okay, I admit—this wasn’t my idea. I talked to Aubrey last night about how to fix this fuck-up, and she suggested I do some sort of romantic gesture involving the outdoors, told me that Brooklyn loves being outside.

I guess she must know her shit, because when Aubrey sees the clearing, she gives an excited gasp and claps her hands. “This is gorgeous!” Wildflowers are blooming all around the perimeter of our area. I hear the sounds of nature around us, and the sunlight pours through the big gap in trees to warm the clearing.

With a flourish, I spread out the blanket I had draped across my arm. “Your seat, madam,” I say in a snooty French accent. Then I open the backpack I filled with all our supplies. “And for madam, we have ze finest red wine we could steal from Outlaws.”

It’s pretty rare for us to serve wine there, but we keep it in stock now because Aubrey’s trying to help widen our customer base.

Since this was her idea, Outlaws can foot the bill for our drinks.

Brooklyn stands there and stares at me.

“Is…something wrong?” I ask, pausing in pulling out the wine opener. Maybe this is too over the top.

She draws in a breath. Presses her hands to her belly. “I’m just surprised. This is a lot of effort to go through for me. Why are you doing all of this?”

It’s a fair question. One I’ve been asking myself, too. I’ve never chased a woman before, never had to. I’ve not really had trouble hooking up in the past.

Brooklyn is more than a hookup though. She’s different. She keeps me on my toes, makes me have thoughts I’ve never had before.

I give a casual shrug. I’m not ready to admit some of the things I’m thinking. Not ready for that level of truth-telling. “I never half-ass anything. I whole ass it or don’t do it at all.”

She chuckles. “You’re right about the ass part.”

I go back into the bag and dig for the wine opener. Pop it open and pour into two small plastic cups. “I was afraid glasses might break in here,” I say.

“I like it—classy,” she chuckles.

“I guess I put the ‘ass’ in class, darling.”

Her smile is so wide it makes something in my heart chip away. “You’re always entertaining, I’ll give you that.”

She oohs and aahs over all the food I withdraw from the bag, showing them in a flourish. Aubrey suggested I get a bunch of snobby snack crap, like fancy cheese and crackers and shit. The chick at the grocery store counter helped me out.

“This looks so good.” She grabs a cracker and nibbles on it, then tilts her face to the sky and closes her eyes. “It’s gorgeous out here, isn’t it?”

Sitting in this spot with Brooklyn, watching how much pleasure she takes from simple gestures people do for her…she’s the one who makes this place gorgeous. My chest tightens. Fuck.

What am I doing? I’m developing real feelings for this woman. Strong feelings. Feelings I refuse to put a label on right now, because I’m so not ready for that kind of thing. And now shit is getting far too complicated, because as much as I told myself I brought her here to apologize, I realize I have to acknowledge it’s something more.

That I wanted to put that happy smile on her face. Wanted to surprise her and let her know she isn’t forgettable to me. Because I know that’s exactly what she was thinking when she left the bar—that I forgot about her.

As if I could. As if my entire body hasn’t been magnetized to her north. Everything in me points in her direction, beckons me to her.

I’m in over my fucking head with Brooklyn, and fuck if I know what to do. Because I can’t stop being who I am…and who I am will ultimately end up destroying us. I’ll ruin any chance I have with her long-term. The smart thing would be to have let her walk away. Let her think I’m just some drunk asshole not worth her time. But it would kill me to have her believe that of me.

Even if it is kinda true.

The problem is, I can’t not see her anymore. I can’t not be around her. Every time I’m with her, I want more. It’s not an option to just let her go, despite the spectacular mess that’s going to occur when we end. Because we will end.

I’m not ready to change who I am. Not yet. Though a small part in my heart is telling me I should just jump off the ledge. But what happens if I change everything about myself, let her in, and then she fucking dumps me anyway? Then I’ve lost the core of who I am, and I’m left with nothing.

I’m not going to be like my dad. A broken man who let his guard down and got hurt. I’ll just have to find a way to be with her and not completely forget what I’m about.

I reach over and stroke her hair, and honest to God she purrs, and my cock immediately bounces to life. I grab a piece of cheese and tap it on her lower lip, and she opens her mouth and takes a bite. Moans, lowers her head to look at me. There’s the weight of desire in her eyes—I can see it clear as day. She still wants me.

I still want her, too. More with each minute that passes.

We finish our meal this way, me feeding her bits in between sips of wine, her feeding some to me, the sexual tension ramping up. We don’t say a word, just move in silence, letting our bodies, our eyes, speak for us.

My dick is slammed against my zipper. I reach down to adjust it so it doesn’t hurt as badly.

Her gaze follows my hand, and she finally breaks the quiet. “I never got to make you come. Why did you stop me?”

Not what I was expecting her to say. I recover fast from my surprise. “Because I wanted to focus on you. You’ve never had it done to you before. I needed it to be memorable.”

“Why?” she presses. Leans closer to me, her eyes fixed on mine. I can tell there’s more behind her question than what it seems on the surface.

I move my hand until it’s cupping over hers, resting on the blanket. Let my fingers stroke her smooth flesh. Even touching her in this innocent manner makes my body scream to get her naked and crawl on top of her. “Because I want to be the one who experiences those firsts with you. I want all your hungry sighs to be for me.” I grip her chin with my other hand and make her look at my eyes. “The moment I touched you, I knew I wanted you. More than I’ve ever wanted a woman before.”

Her lips part, and her breath comes out in soft pants. I can see her nipples bead under her shirt. My words are affecting her. Blood is roaring in my ears.

“I want you, too,” she whispers. “I’m just…scared.”

“I’m not gonna push you into anything,” I tell her. Though I’m fucking about to explode just from being this close to her.

“I know that.” She shakes her head. “You could have had me on my bed and you didn’t. You could have just let me make you come, but you focused on me instead. I think you want to tell yourself you’re nothing but a bad boy, but I see more to you.”

The words pierce me. I move forward and capture her mouth in a hot kiss. I can’t think, can do anything but this.

She twines her arms around my neck and pulls me as close as I can be, then lies down on the blanket, taking me with her. I let my hands roam her generous curves, sighing against her lips, nibbling on her mouth and chin and throat. God, I want her, I want her so badly right now I could scream.

“Jax,” she whispers as she pulls away from me ever so slightly. “I want you to be my first.”

J
ax stares
at me in silence for a long moment, and I feel a twinge of doubt. From everything he said to me today, he has feelings for me—it’s evident in his tone, on his face, through his body language. The way he touches me like he’s worshiping me.

I want my first time with sex to be with someone like him. No, not
like
him.

I want
him
. The man who chased me down to find me in the library with a ridiculously big bouquet of wildflowers, bringing me to an outdoor picnic just to apologize for his actions.

“Are you sure?” Jax asks. I can see how big his pupils are, feel his rock-hard cock against my thigh. He wants me, too, but he’s still offering me a chance to back out. Jax is a lot more thoughtful than he gives himself credit for.

I nod.

He sits up. Starts to gather up the picnic materials.

I put a hand on his forearm. My pulse is beating so hard in my body that I’m sure he can feel it from the contact. It rushes in my ears. I’m suddenly nervous as hell, yet excited too. “No, right here.”

Jax turns to look at me, and the raw fire in his eyes is enough to leave me breathless. “Oh fuck, Brooklyn. I…” He sucks in a quick breath then takes my lips in a searing kiss. I can practically feel my panties melting off when his tongue plunges into my mouth. “And what if someone sees us, darling? Does that thought turn you on?”

His hand slides down to the apex of my thighs, and I groan, thrust under his expert fingers. “Yes,” I admit on a soft sigh. Yes, it does. I don’t know why, but I get aroused at the idea of doing sexual things in public. My pussy is tightly clenched, squeezing in anticipation of feeling that hard dick inside me.

“You’re a fucking dirty girl, aren’t you,” he murmurs against my lips. He pulls back then takes off my long-sleeved shirt, leaning back down to tug one breast from the bra cup and suckle the nipple.

Heat shoots straight to my pussy, and I give a little gasp. His teeth bite down on my nipple, then he licks it to soothe the sting. He unbuttons my jeans next, tugging them down my legs and tossing them into the grass beside us.

The air flows across my skin, cooling my heated flesh. I stroke the lean muscles of his body through his shirt. “Aren’t you going to get naked?”

His look is sheer wickedness. “Oh, not yet, darling. First I’m going to make you come.” He pulls my other breast out of the cup, leaving them exposed. My nipples get impossibly hard when he stares at them, then darts his tongue out to touch just the very tips. His hand goes back between my thighs and he strokes me through my panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet already. I’ve been fantasizing about licking this pussy again.”

I widen my legs so he can nestle himself between them. It’s so dirty, having me in just bra and panties and him fully clothed. Us outside where anyone could walk by and see what we’re doing.

His grin is demonic. “Maybe I can make you scream for me. That’s sure to draw a crowd.”

A mortified flush sweeps through me. “I…I don’t know—”

“You don’t know if I can?” He ducks down until his face is between my legs, and when he inhales, I shiver from the anticipation sweeping through me. “Challenge accepted, darling.”

Jax grips the thinnest parts of my panties over my hips and tugs hard; the fabric gives way from his roughness, ripping in half. It’s possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever had done to me in my life. He takes the part with the crotch and brings it to his mouth, licks the dampness, and I feel my heart stutter in response. He’s so dirty, it spikes my desire even more.

It’s wicked and erotic.

He sticks the ripped fabric in his jeans pocket and goes back down to my clit, then gives one long, decadent swipe.

“Oh, God!” I cry out.

“Good, but not loud enough.” Jax thrusts his fingers into my sopping wet pussy and finger-fucks me hard. He reaches his other hand up to cup around my throat, locking me in place beneath him. A gentle squeeze limits the amount of air that enters my lungs.

My body begins to vibrate with need. My knees are shaky, my hands trembling, and I grasp to hold on to the blanket underneath me. Jax is relentless, licking and fingering me, his hand giving small, quick squeezes on my throat.

“I think I hear someone approaching,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, he moves faster. “You’d better come before they get here.”

Fear shoots through me, mingling with arousal but pushing me right to the edge. Oh God, is someone going to see me like this, spread wide open for Jax, ready to come? I close my eyes and sink into it, imagine what it would feel like to have people breach the border of trees and find me lying here, wanton and dirty.

The orgasm hits me out of nowhere, and when he releases my throat the split second I start to come, I arch back and cry out with a loud whimper, wave upon wave of pleasure almost burning my skin alive. God, yes, God, he keeps licking my clit and doesn’t stop his fingers from thrusting until I sag back to the ground.

“That’s the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen—your face as you’re coming for me,” Jax says as he tugs off his shirt. He leans over me and takes my mouth in a kiss, and I can taste myself on him. “And now I’m going to fuck you, Brooklyn.”

“Yes,” I manage to say. I feel like every square inch of my body is awake and hypersensitive, crying out for his touch.

Jax strips naked, and I take the chance to really look him over. On his lower back, right above his right ass cheek, there’s a small tattoo of a carp, with a date scrawled underneath it. So he does have a tattoo, as I guessed…and I’m betting it’s probably a tribute to his father.

My heart does this funny little stutter in my chest. This man continues to surprise me. He likes to pretend he doesn’t care about anything, but he has a lot of passion and emotion in him. A lot of resonance.

Jax grabs a condom from his jeans and opens it, rolls it on. Drops that gorgeous body on top of me. I’m instantly warm again, and I wrap my legs around him. Another small wave of trepidation hits me. Am I ready for this?

“Hey.” He brushes the hair off my brow. Kisses me there. Looks me in the eyes. “We’ll go slow. I promise it’ll feel good for you.”

I nod. “Okay.”

His cock is hard and heavy between my thighs. When the tip nudges at my wet opening, I freeze up for just a moment. Then his mouth is on my neck, his other hand stroking my breast with leisurely caresses, and my body relaxes from his ministrations. The tension seeps away from my limbs.

He inserts just the tip first, letting me get adjusted to the pressure, inch by inch nudging his way in. His groan is so filled with pleasure that it makes me wetter. “Holy Jesus, you feel so good I’m afraid I’m not going to last long.”

Maybe I can finally make him come. I desperately want to please him. The thought of him spilling inside me makes me push past my fear, and I tell him, “I want you all the way in me.” Need it.
Have
to feel it.

Jax withdraws, and then he pushes deep and I feel a small surge of pain that makes me gasp. He takes my mouth in a kiss, moaning something against my lips that I can’t understand, then pulls out and thrusts in again. And it feels good. The pain fades away fast, replaced by intense pleasure.

Oh God, I totally get it now. Why sex is amazing.

Arousal spirals in my lower belly, shooting out everywhere. The way he’s hammering inside me makes me want it harder, deeper, faster. I grip his bare back, feeling his muscles flex as he rides me. His thrusting becomes irregular, and I wrap my legs around him, encouraging him.

When he reaches down to finger my clit while he fucks me, I give a strangled gasp of pleasure. Oh God, wow, yes, that makes my whole body surge again.

“You’re going to come one more time for me.” His voice is strained, his fingers frantic against my slickness. “Do it, Brooklyn. I need to feel you come around my cock, baby.”

My heart is in my throat, my whole body pulsating, and I reach up and take his mouth in a kiss. He gives my clit a small pinch, which sends me over the edge. I truly can’t fight back the loud shout that erupts from me as I squeeze him, quivering with the rush of my orgasm. Holy hell.

His hand moves from my clit to grip my lower back and tug me closer to his torso, and then just a few moments later he stiffens on top of me, staring right into my eyes, deeper, as though he’s seeing all of me. His mouth opens and he groans, and I feel him pulsing in my pussy as he comes. “Brooklyn, fuck, fuck…”

We’re both panting as our orgasms ebb. He rests his head against mine, our breaths furious, uneven. My body is blazing, and I don’t even feel the breeze anymore. After a moment, he withdraws, then grabs the blanket and wraps us like a burrito in the grass.

The sunshine flicks down on us, caressing my face. I can’t help the smile that curls my mouth.

“So, what did you think?” I can hear sleepy satisfaction in his voice. He knows it was good, but he’s still Jax—the man loves that ego stroke.

“It was…decent,” I say saucily.

“Decent?” His hands are suddenly tickling my ribs, and I squirm and squeal to get away, laughing. “I guess I’ll have to do it again until I get a better rating, huh?”

“I
suppose
we could have a do-over,” I say in mock concession. “I’ve had professors allow it in my classes, after all. Seems fair.”

We remain in peaceful silence for several minutes, letting everything sink in. I just had sex with Jax. A man I’m drawn to. A man who by all rights is bad for me, but I can’t stay away from.

When his hand reaches out of the blanket to stroke my hair, the other arm tugging my back against his sweat-dampened chest, I realize what this emotion I’m feeling is.

Bliss. Sheer, utter bliss.

It’s a dangerous relative of the word I can’t let myself start to think.

The word that could break me in two.

* * *

J
ax’s fingers
are woven through mine as we head out to a flea market he told me about yesterday, hopping in his car with the windows down and the radio playing.

One of his buddies does metal sculpture, and Jax wants to swing by and say hi. The implication of me meeting one of his friends isn’t lost on me.

The last couple of weeks have passed in a haze. When I’m not in class or sleeping, I’m spending my time with Jax. Something about that day, having sex in the grass, changed everything for us. We’ve gone for long, wandering drives in his car, had more sex—lots more sex, and just hung out and talked.

I’ve actively avoided visiting Outlaws—I haven’t been back since that night. Too afraid to see how he’d act if I was there. It’s cowardly, but so be it.

I don’t want to rock the boat. Not when things are going so well.

Okay, not
everything
is going well. I’ve bombed out on a couple of tests. My stomach sank when I saw the scores, the disappointing frowns on my professors’ faces, but it’ll be fine. I’m almost done—these can’t hurt me that badly. Right?

And even if a few bad tests can hurt me a little, I still want to be with Jax. Especially like this, doing couple things together. We’re driving in his car, we’re going somewhere together—and it’s not just about sex.

Does this mean we’re getting serious? Can Jax even do serious? I’m too nervous to ask, but that doesn’t stop the question from circling around in my head. It doesn’t stop me from wanting it.

We pull into a dusty parking lot, and he takes my fingers again when we exit the car. I try to not read into the gesture, but it’s hard not to. Jax weaves me through the crowd down a row of vendors. We get near the end and I see a stall full of metal sculptures, ranging from tiny creatures to massive human-sized animals. They’re contorted and strange, but compelling to look at.

A broad-shouldered man in his twenties with a thick black beard and short-cropped black hair comes over and gives Jax that guy hug thing, slapping him on the back. “You made it. Thanks for coming out, man.”

“Looks great.” Jax gives an approving nod. “You’ve added some new stuff in the rotation, I see.”

“Just keeping things fresh.” The guy’s gaze turns to me with more than a little interest. “So who’s your friend?”

“This is Brooklyn.” It’s not really the words that he says but the way that he says them, low and possessive, that makes my heart flutter.

I offer the guy a hand. “Hi, pleased to meet you.”

“I’m Rob. Since this fucking oaf didn’t bother to tell you my name.” Rob laughs and takes my hand in his large meaty one.

The two guys start talking, so I step away to let them converse, wandering through his table and checking out the small sculptures. They’re made with gears and wires and other metal parts. The one that looks like a dachshund is so cute. It reminds me of the dog we had when I was little. I reach out and stroke the smooth surface.

“—fucking over it,” Jax is saying in a low mutter. “Smith’s smothering the life out of Outlaws. I can’t seem to get through to him, make him see how he’s killing the bar.”

Rob shrugs. “Yeah, it’s kinda bland now that shit’s changed in there. But I understand why he’s doing it. Didn’t you get tired of the cops being total dicks to your family? I heard about them pulling you over a while ago.”